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Monday Spiritual Rumination: Ending a season…

My normally very quiet street was clanking and groaning today with the busyness of electric power connections, water mains and cable wiring linking for a new home in the making. Fascinating stuff, but I missed the birdsong.

The full moon last week was the most incredible red orange misty orb.

I heard a song today that took me back to my Sophomore year of High School. As the memories unraveled like a broken cassette tape, I stumbled upon a face and a betrayal I’d buried deep down. Ouch. Ouch…

I had my sewing machine tuned up for the first time in twenty years. When I had my business, I took it in twice a year for this little ritual. I was shocked at how quickly twenty years passed.

Speaking of time flying, we just celebrated 22 years in this home that we built. If our walls could speak they’d shout out stories of laughter, teen vs. parent arguments about most everything, family silliness that is now the stock stories of our annual gatherings, new friends, new loves, new neighbors and schools, new grandbabies and one long-lived marriage.

That marriage just marked #37—a true cause for great joy!

School begins at the end of the week for my husband. He embarks on year #38 of teaching and campus ministry.

At the parish, we are spending tomorrow wrestling with transition—our personal fears, our visions, our excitement, and our hopes. Come June, we will be up to our eyebrows in newness.

Why am I boring you with all these random thoughts?

At face value, they don’t appear to have much to do with each other and yet they are intimately linked. The calm and quiet I anticipated for grounding today was torn up, and as the digging went on, more memories surfaced. All these little rouge thread ends of thoughts spun together to create a yarn of moving on into new realms of life.

This new autumn opens us to yet another year of a school schedule, yes. But it brings endings as well: the end of the empty wooded lot across the street—a chance to build a new neighbor relationship or, not. It ushers in one final season of a set of parish relationships that will never be the same—and while there is sadness in those partings, there is also wonder at what might come to be.

The end of August also graces us with late summer bird song, foliage filled with bouquets of Queen Anne’s lace, tender leaf color changes, some hot days with earlier sunsets, and morning dew that thickly coats our shoes.

Change is in the air. We are not the same couple who married in 1979; our children are no longer babies; even our home has been made over. Life continues to morph and form us. The new is rubbed off a bit, but the patina is all the more lovely…